Shipwrecked-Chapter 6

Della retrieved the hamper that had held their lunch. A search of the galley yielded a loaf of bread, some crackers, some canned cheese spread, two cans of Spam, and half a jar of peanut butter. Other than the expected lemons and limes, the bar also had several oranges. Those made the basket, too. There were also several bottles of soda and some large pouches of distilled water. In addition to all of that, she also grabbed bottles of scotch and tequila, and two sets of utensils. She also took several sharp knives, wrapping them in a kitchen towel.

Then as an afterthought she headed into the bathroom, grabbing towels, soap and toilet paper. These she placed in a paper bag she found in the galley. Feeling she had everything they might need, she headed back up on deck.

Perry was in the process of removing the smaller of the two sails.

"Perry?"

He turned from his task. His eyes lightened to the color of the sky as he saw her bundle. She looked like a young girl about to set out for a frivolous picnic on the beach. Her clothes, a bit rumpled from having been worn through the night, were a little loose on her frame, but other than that, she looked like a doll.

Grinning at her, he explained, "I thought we could use this to build a shelter. It's waterproof, which might help in case it rains again."

Della frowned, her eyes misting up. She was concerned about him, about his shoulder, and about how long they could expect to survive without rescue.

"Perry, how long do you think we'll…"

Perry immediately crossed to her. Setting the objects at their feet, he pulled her into his arms. She went willingly, giving in to the feeling of security he provided. She tucked her head under his chin and breathed deeply. This is what it felt like to be safe, to be sheltered from whatever the world threw her way. This is what it was like to be loved.

Sensing some of what she was feeling, Perry rubbed his thumbs soothingly in a circular pattern against her back. He kissed her soft hair, then said softly, "Steady, girl. I'm just planning for every contingency. Jack said he was due to meet the buyer tomorrow. And I told Paul I'd give him a call when we reached port."

Della lifted her head and met his eyes. Then she smiled up at him, and it had the effect of the sun breaking through storm clouds.

"That's good news. We're expected. Or, at least Jack is." At the mention of his name, her eyes clouded again. She knew without him saying a word that Jack's disappearance was weighing heavily on him. Then another thought struck her, and she frowned. "But we don't know how far off course we were and where…"

"Sweetheart, please," Perry interrupted her train of thought, then bent toward her and kissed her tenderly on the lips. He dipped his head, drawing her attention to the piles at their feet. "Now, from the looks of your trip below, we have plenty of supplies. I'm making plans to keep us dry and comfortable. Trust me. I will not let anything happen to you."

She returned his kiss. "I do." The way she said it sounded like a solemn vow. Then she grinned and headed to the boat to deposit her supplies.

Twenty minutes later Perry had finally managed to undo the last of the hooks on the sail. He pulled the heavy fabric away and attempted to fold it.

"Stupid shoulder," he growled, just as Della reappeared.

To his surprised delight, she had gone back belowdecks, changed into something practical and shoes that would work on deck or shore and had tied a scarf of some kind about her hair. She was even wearing sunglasses.

"Need assistance, Skipper?" she asked, and not waiting for his assent, started to help him with his task.

"You really are a handy girl to have around," he grunted as he carried it to the small boat.

"Told you."

As Perry guided the boat back to the beach, he wondered just how long it would take someone to miss them, let alone find them. He had sounded confident and reassuring when he had told Della they were expected, but he wasn't fooling himself. Without a clue about their present position, it was almost impossible to accurately calculate how long they would be stranded. The charts he had looked over were no help because he had no idea how far they had traveled after Jack was lost. Fresh water, if there was any, would be a priority to find. And with a bum shoulder, he wasn't at all certain he could provide the safe shelter he had promised.

Despite his assurances to Della, his concerns about their chances were grave, indeed.

PDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPD

After securing the Zodiac and placing their supplies in the small indentation and covering them with the sail, they helped themselves to a small portion of fruit. Then they decided to explore a little.

They walked hand-in-hand through the surf, their shoes dangling from their fingertips. Despite the seriousness of the situation, there were still moments when they both appreciated the seclusion and intimacy it afforded them. Perry made sure to keep the conversation light, to keep Della's spirits up.

The late-morning sun, almost directly overhead, set Della's hair aflame, and made her eyes sparkle. She was alive and vibrant and, if not at ease, certainly not bogged down with worry. There was a curve to her lips that intrigued him, and a musical quality to her voice that entranced him. If it weren't for the need to search for clues, he would have scooped her into his arms, carried her back to the blankets, and done his very best to . . .

"Perry, look!" Della pointed to the steps she had found by flashlight the night before. "I wasn't wrong! The steps!"

He sighed; the daydream evaporated.

At the far end of the beach, there were indeed steps carved into the rock cliff face. Seeing how narrow and steep the stairs were, he looked at her.

She just smiled. "Don't even think about it. I'm coming."

"Sweetheart, if something has to happen to one of us, better for it to happen to me. I'm already banged up." Her expression was priceless. It was a look he had seen so many times before. Perry just shook his head. "Alright. But you don't take a step without me and you follow my instructions to the letter, understand?"

Della gave him a mock salute. "Yes, Sir."

"Della, I mean…"

She laid her hand on his arm. "I trust you, Perry. How many times do you need to hear it?"

Perry's face was serious, his eyes dark, and his voice low. "Sweetheart, I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to you. I'm only doing my best to protect you."

Della stood on tiptoe and kissed him. "And I know you will. Now, then. Let's get going."

Perry held her hand and began slowly following the steps. Thankfully, there were occasional places where handholds had been carved out.

When at last they reached the top, their suspicions were confirmed. They were stranded on an island and their beach was almost in the center. Della lifted her hand to shield her eyes from the blinding sunlight. On the horizon she could see that there were several large formations jutting out into the water. Turning in all directions, she failed to see any other debris or flotsam from the wreck, and absolutely no other signs of life. No Jack. Meanwhile, Perry pointed out three peaks at various points on the island.

"Volcanoes," he stated. "At least the land is mostly grassy. We'll be able to see any dangerous animals coming for us."

She looked at him in consternation. "Dangerous animals?"

He nodded. "In addition to spiders, snakes and other creatures of the creeping, crawling kind, we might have to keep our eyes open for wild boar." She didn't comment on that. He squeezed her hand. "Look on the bright side. If there is a wild boar, we can have a luau!"

She rolled her eyes. He grinned. "Come on, there's a path that leads to the largest peak over there. We have nothing better to do . . ."

Tugging on Della's hand, Perry started along the path. She dutifully followed, delighted by the excitement he could not quite conceal. Even with the injury to his shoulder, he was moving easily, and, she had to admit, handsomely. She admired the way his backside looked when he walked. More than anything she wanted to drop his hand and wrap her arm around his waist. And if her hand should slip lower . . .

All of a sudden she forgot to look where she was stepping. When she tripped and would have fallen, a pair of strong hands caught her, saving her from a hard spill.

"Are you alright?" he asked breathlessly. His fear for her was genuine.

She nodded. "Yes. Sorry, I was thinking about something and not paying attention."

"Something, or someone?"

"It doesn't matter."

He rubbed her arms. "It matters to me. Everything you do matters, Della. I might not be alive right now if it weren't for your quick thinking."

She blushed. Then something at her feet caught her eye. "Perry, what is that?"

Perry knelt to see what had caused her to trip. Pulling away the scrub grass, he revealed a wooden signpost. The words were almost weathered away by time and the elements, but he could still make them out.

Isla Clarion

Propiedad del Gobierno de México

Prohibido el Paso

Della leaned over his shoulder, reading. Then she straightened and sighed.

"So we are on Clarion Island, wherever the heck that is. And we are trespassing on the private property of the Mexican government."

Perry's eyes brightened and he dimpled adorably. "You read Spanish?" He shook his head. "You are just one surprise after another, Miss Street."

Della only smiled. "I had a choice in high school of home economics or Spanish. I already knew how to cook and sew."

"Remind me to send a thank you note to the public school system in Illinois when we get back."

"Funny," she said, although she failed to see the humor in their situation. "Perry, other than the possibility of being shot for trespassing by the federales, we still don't have any idea how to get off this island, how far we are from the mainland, and if a search is even underway."

Hearing the slight twinge of hysteria in her voice, Perry stood and wrapped her in his arms.

He kissed her cheek, her nose, her cheek again, then her lips. Her arms stole around him, pressing him closer. She tilted her face up to his, answering his kisses with her own fervent ones.

He laughed shakily as he moved his mouth next to her ear. "Della, listen to me. We know where we are now. I have some charts that I took from the boat, so when we get back to the beach, I can estimate the distance from here to the mainland." He kissed her softly again, then pressed home his point. "As for the search . . . you know very well Paul will search every inch of ocean until he finds us—well, you. As for being shot, considering the state of that sign, I doubt anyone from the government has been here since the days of Cortez. Now," he placed more kisses from her forehead to her nose and then back to her lips, "I suggest we head back. If I know you, and I do, you're starving. We'll eat and I can look at those charts. Okay?"

Gazing into his deep blue eyes, seeing the love and care in them, Della shook her head. "I don't know why I'm complaining anyway. I've been wanting to get you alone, with no phones and no Paul for a long time."

He laughed at that. She was coming around. "Did you find a magic bottle in the sand last night? These wishes of yours . . .I hope you didn't use them all up!"

"Of course not! I have two in reserve."

"Two?"

She nodded. "And neither of them involve us being rescued."

"No?"

"No," she repeated, and he knew things were going to be fine.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't need a genie to get us out of here, Perry Mason. I have you. I'm ready."

Perry kissed her again. "That's my girl." Taking her hand, they started the slow climb back to the beach.